


like i'm livin' a teenage dream

by brightblue



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 03:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17738294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightblue/pseuds/brightblue
Summary: Ginny and Mike navigate their new relationship, baseball, and more Katy Perry references than is likely healthy.





	like i'm livin' a teenage dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outtonight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outtonight/gifts).



> To my Pitch Secret Admirers Match -- I hope you enjoy this Valentine's Day gift. I'm not quite sure what to make of it myself but it has Bawson in an established relationship and a poorly hidden one at that! So I can at least check a few boxes! ;-)
> 
> General Note: Soooo when you miss characters terribly, and you still think about them a lot but you haven't written them in exactly a year, you sit down to write and have too many ideas. So you procrastinate. And then you write nearly 20 pages of *everything* in a day because it's just too much. So fair warning, this is probably at least 3 different stories rolled into one. And we're leaning hard into Mike and Ginny being total goofballs with each other when they are happy and in love. Also, big thanks to Jenn for being my sounding board! Hope this does it. Love ya!
> 
> Disclaimer: 1) As I said, I haven't written Pitch in a long time so my baseball knowledge, which was limited at best to begin with, is pretty much gone. I did my best with a few cursory Google searches but I'm sure there are many aspects that don't track here so please bear with me. 2) I really don't like Katy Perry as much as this fic implies but the writers of the show really opened the door on this one and the song is too perfect.

_tell the punchline wrong_

“Mmm, I could eat this for breakfast every day…” Ginny can’t help the moan that escapes her mouth as she takes another divine bite of Chef Alex’s BBQ brisket hash. “Give that man a raise, Ev.”

Evelyn doesn’t look up from her laptop. “Oh, he’s doing just fine.”

Ginny just shrugs and digs in for more. This is her Saturday routine as of late— brunch at Ev’s restaurant (of course she wants to see her friend, but mostly she just wants the breakfast skillet), going over her stats for the week ahead, then off to the ballpark to warm up for the game. Within the confines of the demanding baseball schedule, her life has found routine and balance for the first time in years and she is content. The freshly squeezed orange juice doesn’t hurt, either.

Her phone dings an alert from its spot on the table. Both Evelyn and Ginny look up reflexively.

_iMessage: Teenage Dream ❤️_

Evelyn’s eyes widen with glee. Ginny feels her cheeks burn as she snatches the phone out of her best friend’s view.

“I can’t—” Evelyn’s face is twisted into a maniacal smile; she giggles, unable to finish her thought.

“It’s just a joke.”

“Does Lawson know?” Evelyn is very clearly doing a breathing exercise to get her laughter under control.

Ginny levels her with a look. “Of course he knows.” Ginny’s phone dings several more times as if to punctuate her point.

“Ew,” Evelyn shakes her head. “And I thought Blip and I could be gross. What happened to keeping The Ego under control?”

Now Ginny can’t help her own secret smile. “This is not an area I want to discourage Mike’s confidence…”

Evelyn drags her Bloody Mary closer to her and takes a dainty sip. “I’m listening.”

Ginny just shakes her head and checks her messages, all from Mike and all completely baseball related. How disappointing. _Whatever you say, captain_ , she sends back with a flirty emoji.

When Ginny just places her phone back on the table and returns to her breakfast rather than spilling any sordid details to Evelyn about her sex life, Evelyn gives her a huff of impatience. “Do you guys really still think you’re fooling anyone? _Teenage Dream_? Honestly!”

“I told you. Now’s not the best time…” Biting her lip, Ginny tries to push back thoughts of her looming contract negotiations and all the stress Mike feels over his first season as assistant hitting coach.

Patting Ginny’s hand, Evelyn gives her a sympathetic look. “There’s never going to be a best time, sweetie. You’re happy and in love. Screw everything else.”

Ginny feels a familiar pressure in her chest. So much for content. “It’s not that simple.”

Evelyn considers this for a moment. “I know. And I don’t mean to minimize all the ramifications. But Mike ran his big, fat mouth to reporters about you having his poster the first chance he got. It doesn’t exactly take my level of investigative skill to figure out the whole Teenage Dream secret codename.”

It's true. There was a whole back and forth on Kimmel about it.

“Evelyn, we _can’t_.” Ginny breathes out. Just the thought of her relationship with Mike, her most private, sacred thing, being opened up to scrutiny, to the harsh environment of her reality, makes her skin prickle with sweat.

Understanding, Evelyn places her hand over Ginny’s. “Maybe just start to trust that there really is solid ground under your feet?”

The friends sit in silence for a long moment. Ginny’s breakfast goes cold as she pushes it around with her fork. When has anything in her life ever been stable?

It’s Evelyn’s sudden cackle of laughter that finally lightens the mood. “Teenage Dream? You guys are not subtle _at all_ …”

Ginny just grins and thinks back to when the whole thing started.

 

* * *

 

_take a chance_

It’s the most surreal, out of body experience that Ginny’s had in some time. She understands the words, grasps their individual meanings, and knows that strung together they have an even greater meaning:

_What’s it like to play with THE Ginny Baker? I’ll tell ya, Jimmy, it’s not easy. She’s a star and she knows it. All those Nike ads and party invites and flowers from celebrities, they go to the head. And to top it off, she goes out on the mound and sends hungry batters back to the dugout with style and grace and just plain talent. I mean, when she’s not blowing off my calls in favor of her lollipop fast ball. I just have to remind myself that she had my All-Star poster on her wall back in the day and it’s a little less intimidating. Who’s got the real power here?_

But what the hell, Lawson?

He went on the show to promote his charity work with the Boys and Girls Club; a series of Twitter challenges he set forth had gone viral, much to Mike’s delight. Given that it had been a long time since Mike had been recognized on such a national platform, he had been insufferable about it. And though at times Ginny wanted to staple his smug smile shut, she still soaked up each and every appearance and mention he’d gotten, if only just to catch a glimpse of his grumpy, bearded face. She was proud that he was being recognized, glad he’d gotten the boost in likely his last season on the team. She basked in the glow he emitted because it made her happy too.

And then he had to go and be that charming asshole on Kimmel and tell the world about her childhood crush on him. (And his words had done nothing, nothing at all, to ease her current, very adult crush on him.)

The words play over and over in her head. She sees the headlines in black and white— cheeky, clickbait headlines that make the feelings she’s currently having feel cheap and tawdry. There’s even a few articles that compile all the adoration Mike has spewed her way in various interviews. It makes Ginny’s stomach flutter and then there’s the phantom sensations of his warm breath ghosting across her lips, the tickle of his beard on her cheek, the solid, expansive warmth of his hand on her back…

Ginny is on sensory overload. She is dizzy, the earth tilting beneath her feet. She hardly hears the teasing remarks from her teammates. Her usually swift comebacks are lodged somewhere in her throat.

*

Their eyes meet for the first time across the bustling locker room. Ginny’s whole body flushes hot and she assumes this is exactly how one would feel before their body melted to goo on the floor. She clenches her fists because how dare he look at her with a gaze so open and kind. The urge to smile is too much.

She shuffles off to the gym, eyes cast down.

Of course, he sneaks up on her as she pushes herself on the bike. His voice is suddenly low in her ear, his body a warm shadow behind her.

“I am sorry I told the world about your childhood crush on me.” The tone suggests he’s not sorry at all; the little curl of a grin she can make out under his beard is a spark to a flame.

She rolls her eyes. “You wish.”

He snaps his gum, grips the handles on either side of the seat, and leans over her. Ginny pushes out a harsh breath and picks up her pace. “Oh I don’t wish, Baker, I _know_ …”

Ginny turns, making their faces much, much too close. “Sounded kinda like you outed yourself as my biggest fan as well.”

“Have I ever denied it?”

“For the record, _my_ poster boy did not have this animal fur on his face,” Ginny points out, her voice low. She risks a gentle pat to his beard. His eyes flutter, kinda like he wants to nuzzle into her touch, and Ginny can hardly breathe.

“Your poster boy has grown up a lot since then. He’s hanging up his cleats real soon.” His words are a soft grumble that roll across her skin.

Ginny looks away at that. She knows this. And she’s torn. “Kinda bittersweet.”

“Yeah,” Mike leans just a fraction closer before pushing away completely. Then, he’s standing beside her, arms crossed over his chest, and she wonders if she felt him that close at all. “But not all change is bad.”

Ginny catches his eye and allows him to see all the feelings brewing in her. “No. No, it’s not.”

*

A week later, when the press still hasn’t died down about Lawson’s interview, Amelia books Ginny onto Kimmel for a follow up segment where she gives the world a tour of her childhood bedroom. Pictures of a young Lawson are plastered to her walls along with other sports heroes of the time. The twist is the shrine to Zac Efron, complete with candles and hearts and a wedding album. Ginny plays the part well. The team gives Mike the appropriate amount of grief over it all.

But Ginny makes sure to hum a very specific Katy Perry song as she stretches before their next game. Next to her, Lawson looks over in the midst of his calf stretch and winks. She rewards him with a smile and it’s then the joke becomes kind of their thing. Their touchstone. That maybe they don’t talk about certain things yet but they are both fully aware of what’s waiting.

That night, she changes his name in her phone to the silly code name. It’s weeks before he notices but, when he finally does, his grin lights up the room.

 

* * *

 

_believe this is real_

It comes down to the final game of their regular season, a skin-of-their-teeth win for the Padres earning them a division championship. In the ensuing high, they push past the Cardinals in a 3-1 series to capture Mike’s third NLDS title. Though their will to win continues, the team finds themselves struggling against the Mets in the league final. Their first two losses in the series leave them frustrated and downtrodden. They get too far into their own heads, make careless mistakes, and generally lose their spirit. The third loss is heartbreaking, so much does the team want to rally and earn a W for their retiring captain that when it fails to materialize, the cloud of disappointment hangs low and heavy.

But then comes the trademark Mike Lawson speech. Likely his last. And what a speech it is. Ginny will never admit to the tears in her eyes as she watches her hero lead his team into a losing battle. The team carries that expression of gratitude into Game 4, eager to show their leader a solid effort and a good game. “Just enjoy it," Mike reminds them. “Just the fact that we made it this far is a win. Remember why we’re here. This is the game we love and we are lucky as hell to be here.”

Ginny doesn’t get the start that game. She is almost glad, as much as she wants to maximize her time playing with her catcher, she’s come to a tentative peace with the end of that relationship. So she sits back and relaxes, watching her teammates and, most of all, her captain soak it all up. The team's laid back attitude produces results. The game is close. But as the innings stretch on, it is clear this will not be the Padres’ year.

Tension begins to build in Petco as Lawson's last at-bat nears. It’s far from a fairy tale ending, at least in a baseball sense. But the crowd doesn’t care and as Mike gears up, trying to maintain focus in the midst of overwhelming emotions, his walkup song kicks on.

And Ginny busts out laughing.

There’s a moment of confusion because this is not the 90s party jams Mike generally favors to get in the mood. This is Katy Perry.

As the crowd goes wild, Mike shares a secret smirk with Ginny, his eyes bright with happiness. It’s then Ginny knows he has no regrets. Mike isn't lost in nostalgia; he is looking to the future. He points his bat at her, cheesing it up a bit for the crowd. Ginny is shaking with emotion, which exact one she'll never be able to label, as tears come right along with the laughter. She knows her face is likely blown up on every screen in the park and she doesn't even care. She claps and hollers and bumps shoulders with Blip, who’s just shaking his head next to her.

Mike nods to the crowd. He goes through his usual maneuvers to focus himself before stepping up to the plate. Ginny can see in every line of his body that he's as relaxed and comfortable as can be. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t the ending he wanted, the one with champagne and a ring and all the glory. All that matters is the crack of the bat meeting ball. A moment of magic as the ball lifts up, up, up into the glorious California sun, winking out into the shadows of the ballpark. Waves of celebration crash over the stadium as Mike takes a slow jog around the bases, his victory lap. Under the weight of it all, he falls to his knees once he reaches home plate. His team rushes the field. It’s Ginny, of course, who reaches Mike first and pulls him up out of the dirt, her arms fierce around his middle, head buried in the crook of his neck. He wraps her closer still.

The image of them embracing, holding onto each other so tightly, solid and silent, as the team celebrates around them will cover multiple media outlets that week.

*

Mike officially announces his retirement and the World Series continues on. Not one reporter will directly ask the official nature of the Lawson/Baker relationship. Any suspicions of romance alluded to in Ginny’s pressers are met with a swift shutdown and, if Amelia is feeling truly annoyed, loss of access. Mike never really answers the question, either, often rambling on about Ginny’s career in a monologue that lacks any scandalous pull-quote for all the passion it contains.

“She’s my best friend,” Lawson says when shown the photo during an interview. “Just as her career started taking off, with all the sexist bullcrap she’s had to deal with on top of everything else, mine was winding down, and to experience those highs and lows together while still trying to produce on the field… well, nothing else to say other than she’s been my rock and I hope she can say the same about me.”

The night after his last game, the team celebrates into the wee hours of the morning. Neither Ginny nor Mike drink very much, both preferring to revel in reality. As their teammates dance with drunken joy around them, Ginny finds a moment to pull Mike in close and whisper in his ear, “I’m ready for us to have that talk.”

Her heart pounds as loud as the bass beat in the club as she waits for his answer. He just gives her a tight squeeze and kisses her cheek. “I’ll bring breakfast tomorrow morning.”

*

Ginny has to wonder if it’s a calculated seduction (not that one was at all needed) as she tosses and turns all night, buzzing with anticipation.

He shows up on her doorstep early the next morning with a bag full of groceries and a sheepish smile. She marvels over his ability to properly poach an egg and he teases her for burning their toast (so, fine, she was distracted a little.) It’s giddy and bright and they spend the morning dancing on the edge of this cliff, flirty and comfortable all at once. Mike suggests a walk on the beach and tangles his hand into hers as they stroll. Mike’s hand is rough and familiar in hers; she leans unabashedly into his warmth.

They find themselves on an empty plot of sand. Mike rolls up his jeans, Ginny hikes up her leggings, and they wade into the cool surf. It’s that moment Ginny knows they are about to free fall into whatever comes next. She tries to force panic from her mind and be present in the moment. It comes easily when Mike opens his wallet, shit-eating grin on his face, to show her the rookie card he has tucked securely in its folds. Ginny wells up when she see her face pulled tight in concentration underneath the plastic.

“Just to keep it even,” Mike winks as he carefully puts the card back.

“Mike…” she whispers, overcome, and says no more, just collapses into him and kisses him senseless.

 

* * *

 

_get your heart racing_

They don’t tell many people about their burgeoning relationship. Blip and Evelyn, of course, know right away. The circle gradually widens to Al and Amelia and, eventually, their mothers. But for the most part they keep to their happy little bubble.

Ginny has to pinch herself at times when she remembers this is all real. There are times it’s hard to reconcile the Mike Lawson whose poster hung on her wall with the Mike Lawson who grills them burgers for dinner and lets her pick which show to binge on Netflix. Her poster boy was this golden god, all swagger and skill. Her boyfriend gets grumpy when he can’t figure out the new update on his phone and bitches when she leaves her clothes on the bathroom floor.

It’s the first off-season she’s had in, well, ever that doesn’t feel stressful. She feels fairly secure in her roster position. She’s healthy. Amelia keeps her publicity commitments to a manageable load. She can just enjoy herself. Mike, too, feels little urgency to decide what’s next. He grumbles and groans whenever she rises early for a workout, happy to lounge around in bed while she busts her ass at the gym. He takes some meetings about broadcasting potential, investigates a few charity options, but ultimately it’s Al that ends up turning his head. The Padres' longtime hitting coach is retiring and, with some inevitable shuffling around, it looks like there will be a slot for an assistant hitting coach available. The pay is laughable compared to what Mike Lawson is used to making but he doesn’t so much care about the money anymore. (Ginny rolls her eyes at this. Of course the money doesn’t matter— the man has more than he could ever spend in the bank and still pulls in a healthy amount in occasional endorsements, not to mention his dealerships.)

*

“I’ve heard it’s difficult for people to accept the slower lifestyle of retirement,” Ginny informs him, scrolling through her phone as Mike fiddles with the mountain bike he decided he needed; just another in a long line of hobbies he’s tried in the last few months. It is better than Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, which landed him a month of physical therapy after just one lesson; he was lucky he didn’t end up in emergency surgery.

With a grunt, Mike tosses a wrench down on the concrete garage floor. Ginny isn’t sure how he got quite so greasy and dirty just trying to tune up the bike but she isn’t complaining. She loses her train of thought for a moment as she considers how his worn grey t-shirt clings to his chest.

“Whatcha yapping about over there, rookie?” Mike feigns intense concentration the bike's tire pressure. His use of his old nickname for her is no coincidence.

“I’m worried you’re going to go crazy, rattling around in this fish bowl, when the season starts. Once I’m on the road, I won’t be able to drive your ass to the hospital. Oh! Should we look at getting you one of those alert necklaces?” Ginny enjoys the sneer that overcomes Mike’s features. She knows she’s poking the bear but she also knows he needs the motivation. They’ve both had too easy a time falling into their carefree lifestyle lately.

Mike eases himself to standing with a groan. Ginny raises an eyebrow at that. Wiping the sweat from his brow with his bicep, Mike ambles over to where she’s perched on the edge of his work bench. He leans into her, boxing her in with his arms.

Ginny can’t help but appraise the man before her, feeling her heart rate kick up when she gets a whiff of his musky scent. Yeah, she’d be cool with this Mr. Fix-It thing he’s got going on now.

“One more joke and I’m going to really have to show you what this old man can do.” He leans down and nips at her neck. Ginny squeaks, her arms automatically tugging him closer.

“Mmm, promise?” She sighs and uses her heels to pull his body fully into hers. It’s when her hand traces down the muscle of his back that she feels the muscle spasm before he can bring voice to it. She laughs, giving it some pressure with the heel of her palm.

With a grunt, Mike pulls back. “ _Promise_ , rook. But first I need a hot shower. And maybe an ice pack.”

Ginny wants to offer to join him but the lance of pain in his eyes stops her short. She settles for kissing his brow. “How about a massage then?” She cracks her knuckles. “Kiki’s taught me a few tricks.”

Mike just laughs. “Somehow that sounds more foreboding than sexy. But I’ll take it.”

*

Later, in bed, Mike keeps her curled closely to his side as he runs his fingernails gently up and down her arm. Ginny can barely keep her eyes open.

“I think I want to take the coaching job,” he says, voice soft. His hand stills and Ginny’s eyes open. “I’ve been thinking it over, talking with Al, and… well, I think I’d have a lot to offer the team.”

Ginny props herself up on her elbow and studies his face in the dying light. She gives him a reassuring smile. “You have a lot to offer, whatever you do.”

Mike pushes some hair out of her eyes with a gentle touch. “We’d be on the road together.”

Ginny tenses and she know he can feel it. “We’d still be on the same team then.”

“I know, and I’ve thought about that.” Mike sighs and squeezes her close. “It’s not like our roles would be in direct contact. Hell, if you just take my advice on how to hit a proper line drive then maybe you wouldn’t have the most pathetic batting average ever to be seen in the majors.”

Pinching his side, Ginny considers this. Hell, she has been considering this. There really couldn’t be much in the way of scandal with Mike as a hitting coach. Still, she knows how locker room chatter can be. “But with my teammates…”

Mike sighs. “So we keep this under wraps a little longer. See how it plays out.”

Ginny feels rising panic in her body over the thought of their relationship being under scrutiny. Of Mike still wanting to see how it plays out.

With a heavy sigh, Mike kisses her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, Ginny. Can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Ginny nods into his chest, taking a deep inhale. “I know.” She exhales. “I _know_.”

But, the thing is, sometimes she doesn't.

 

* * *

 

_things were kinda heavy_

And so it went. Ginny and Mike’s easy off-season routine transitioned relatively smoothly into the familiar grind of a baseball season. It’s easier than Ginny thought to keep their two realities separate— on the road and at the ballpark, they are Baker and Lawson, pitcher and former catcher turned coach. They bicker and banter just like always. At home, however, they find themselves most often living a quiet domestic life at Mike’s house. It works.

That doesn’t mean they don’t slip up now and again. There are the nights when Ginny has to rouse Mike before the crack of dawn to push him out of her bed and  back to his shared room, where Jack Barrows, hitting coach, will assume that Mike had landed himself a one night stand from the bar the night before (never mind that no one will quite recall Mike ever making the effort to leave his table.) No one asks, but Ginny frequently volunteers that she carpools with Mike because she hates the San Diego traffic. It’s just easier that way. Mike spends more time than he should reviewing opposition tape with Ginny before her starts and it’s not uncommon to find Ginny camped out in Mike’s office, helping herself to his hidden stash of ridiculously expensive flavored almonds.

Ginny and Mike play this all off as friendship and, whether or not their teammates buy it, Ginny doesn’t really care as long as no one says anything to her about it. The press still matches her up with whatever hot, young, eligible bachelor shows up at a game or walks the same red carpet as her. Most of the Padres accept her and treat her as just another player or, at worst, a kid sister. It’s a non-issue.

That is, until Chris Jemison shows up. He’s a young hotshot, fresh off a strong run at Louisiana State, and eager to prove himself in the bigs. He’s a mini Mike Lawson and knows it. Mike narrows his focus to keeping the kid’s head on straight, to help him adapt to the pressure of playing at this highest level. Jemison, of course, has his own ideas.

*

“Lawson, what the hell, I thought we were meeting at the cages?” Jemison storms into Lawson’s office only to find Ginny instead, her sneakered feet propped up on Mike’s desk as she ices her shoulder and plays Catan on her phone. A chicken salad sits half eaten beside her.

Ginny just raises an eyebrow at the kid, barely looking up from her game. And, sure, the kid is only two years her junior chronologically speaking but he’s definitely way less mature. “You talk to all your coaches like that, rookie?”

Jemison bristles at the nickname. He so clearly does not appreciate being seen as green, especially by Ginny, which of course makes the team pile on him even more. He’s gotta learn somehow. “Lawson missed our appointment at the cages.” He tells this to Ginny like she’s Lawson's secretary or something, demanding an answer.

With a shrug, Ginny tosses her phone on the desk. “Must be running late, I guess. You could’ve gotten started without him.”

Jemison just glares at her. A glare that takes a lascivious twist when Ginny leans forward and he realizes she's only wearing her workout tank top. Ginny narrows her eyes at him. “Anything else, Jemison?”

He just quirks an eyebrow at her and Ginny regrets not having a ball in her hand. A screwgie to his groin sounds good to her right now. Ginny crosses her arms defensively across her body, the familiar feeling of being treated like nothing more than eye candy creeping across her skin. She feels it less often these days, especially in the safety of her team clubhouse, and it catches her off guard.

“Jemison! You’re late!” Lawson’s voice echoes from down the hall and Ginny nearly sags in relief. The rookie loses his confidence quickly, trying to scurry off but not quite clearing the doorway before Mike’s large body imposes on them. Ginny allows herself a secret smile. Mike’s eyes flick rapidly between Ginny and Jemison, reading the discomfort in the air. He raises an eyebrow at Ginny, but she gives him little in response. Jemison is a spoiled, creepy frat boy, but he feels harmless and not worth Mike getting all riled about.

“Baker, just making yourself right at home, huh?” Mike asks, voice smooth. The twinkle in his eye melts her irritation.

“Tu casa es mi casa,” she winks and picks up her salad.

“I don’t think that’s quite how it works.” He makes his voice as gruff as possible, though Ginny knows it’s all for show. And even it it's not, Ginny has never found Mike's snarling all that intimidating. Mike pushes past the squirmy rookie in the doorway to grab a binder from his desk. He has to lift Ginny’s ankles to find it and Ginny is careful not to react to the familiar warmth of his hand on her skin.

Because she’s feeling piqued by Jemison’s antics, Ginny pushes it a bit further. As Mike moves to leave the office, all business, she gives a little shiver. “It’s freezing in here, Lawson! Geez!” With that, she reaches onto the chair behind her where she knows Mike always keeps a jacket, and makes a show out of zipping herself into the blue warm-up with her boyfriend’s name embroidered on the front.

Mike stops dead in his tracks and levels her with a look that says he knows her game, he is not pleased, and yet he is still turned on. Jemison’s tongue nearly falls out of his mouth as her shoulders roll back for her arms to reach into the jacket. She pushes her chest forward an inch further than necessary and watches as Jemison’s eyes go wide; she swears she can hear Mike’s jaw crack from across the room.

“Go ahead. Make yourself comfy, Baker. Haven’t washed that since Opening Day.” Mike rolls his eyes, trying his best to sound unaffected. He grips Jemison’s shoulder hard, Ginny can see his white knuckles from across the room, and steers the rookie away from the office. “Jem, good buddy, I changed my mind. We’re starting in the weight room today. I see lots of landmine rows in your future.”

A second later, Mike’s face pops back in the door. Pointing at Ginny, he gives her a look that sends sparks to her core. “I’ll deal with you later, rook.”

Ginny smolders back at him, teasing the zipper of her stolen hoodie and giving a shoulder shimmy. “Aye, aye, captain.”

Mike's cheeks redden and his eyes go dark. Then, he's gone.

*

That night, they don’t make past the living room before tearing each other’s clothes off. It doesn’t do Mike’s back any favors but it’s worth it regardless.

*

“It would be so much easier if we could just tell the team…” Mike has propped himself up on a bunch of pillows in bed, wearing nothing more than his sweats, reading glasses, and a rice heat pack as he studies scouting reports. Ginny isn't sure why she finds this as sexy as she does, but she decides to give herself a more advantageous view by camping out on pillows with her head at the foot of the bed. She watches HGTV mostly upside down, yelling out snide remarks every now and then to make Mike scowl at her.

Ginny groans. Relationship-talk is so not on her agenda for tonight. Working Mike up into a frustrated lather so he has no choice but to toss his notes and jump her? Yes. Dealing with this same issue they've been over and over again? Not so much. Besides, it all feels too fresh from her last brunch with Evelyn and her best friend pushing the exact same issue. Ginny had thought about it since then, quite a bit. But she still isn't sure she is ready.

Muting the TV, Ginny knows she can't avoid this conversation entirely. She expresses this frustration by covering her face with her hands and speaking to the ceiling.  “Why? So Jemison and his crew can leer at me and ask me if they’re next?”

Mike makes a noise. “If that punk is harassing you—

Ginny holds up a hand to stop the protective rant about to occur. “It’s fine. I can handle him. I just…” Ginny rubs at her head, still unable to look at her boyfriend. It’s times like this she feels every bit her age. Like she doesn’t quite know how to navigate the big things in life sometimes.

“Tell me,” Mike urges softly, placing a hand on her shin. She listens to him put down his papers and take off his glasses, giving her his full attention.

Ginny takes a deep breath and forces herself to meet his gaze. “I just keep thinking about that meeting with my management team about my contract…”

Frowning, Mike gives her nothing but sympathy in return. “Did you hear something new?”

Ginny knows the anxiety she feels is laid plainly on her face. “No. But what if—

“We talked about this,” Mike reminds firmly, squeezing her leg. “No what ifs.”

“I know,” Ginny exhales, irritation stirring in her chest. “It’s just that if they were to suddenly know about us, if we were to be _out there_ , and now I’m back on the gossip blogs and the team is at odds again and then... and then it’s just easier to pass me off to some other team!” Ginny feels the wave of panic down to her toes as all the possibilities spin out in front of her. “And then—

“Stop.” Mike’s voice is a little louder and harsher than necessary but it snaps Ginny out of her spiral. “ _Stop it_ , Gin. If that’s all it takes for them to want to trade you, then good riddance.” His gaze is hard and steady. He doesn't say more but he doesn't have to. Her heart swells.

Ginny blinks back tears. “I’m so happy here.”

With a heavy sigh, Mike traces his grip down to her ankle, wraps his fingers there, and pulls hard. Caught off guard, Ginny gasps as she slides toward him and then giggles as his fingers find the back of her knees and tickle. Then, in a move that seems far too smooth for Mike’s creaky old bones, he’s suddenly on top of her and running his beard down her chest and neck as Ginny shrieks in laughter.

He finally lets up tickling her when she’s good and out of breath, soothing her with a deep kiss. When he pulls back, they just stare at one another for a long moment. _This._ This is what makes her happy. She can’t lose this.

“We’ll be okay,” Mike reassures her, eyes dark and serious, “I promise.”

 

* * *

 

_let my walls come down, down, down_

The regular season is winding down and the Padres have slim chance of seeing October. Ginny’s okay with it, though, feeling confident in her own play and some of the strides the team has made together, still adjusting to the gaping hole Lawson’s retirement left on the roster.

Ginny is finishing up getting dressed in her cubby when Mike’s signature knock sounds at the door.

“What’s up, Lawson?”

Mike says nothing, just immediately sits in her chair. He doesn’t even comment on the fact that she’s standing there in just her sports bra and tights. He looks cagey, the way his foot taps out a beat on the floor and he strokes at his beard, nearly tugging it.

“Mike?” Ginny is alarmed now. He won’t meet her eyes. She quickly throws on a warm-up jacket, sensing this is something she needs to be fully clothed to hear.

Mike looks at her as if he’s just noticed her presence. He frowns. “They offered me a contract.”

Ginny freezes, not sure how to react. “O- _kay_ … that’s not unexpected?” Unsure where to put herself in the small space, Ginny settles for leaning back against the wall, arms and ankles crossed, defensive. Mike is making her nervous. Her brain buzzes, searching. Of course they offered Mike a contract. He’s been great this season in his role, everyone agrees. If they didn’t offer him a contract, surely another team would snap him right up and— _oh_. Frankly, she’s been so sure Mike would be asked back to the Padres, that his continued presence there is a given, she’s only ever been concerned with the outcome of her own negotiations.

Mike is still staring off into space so Ginny finds herself leaning over him, playing defense no more. She places a hand on either arm of the chair and gives him a shake. “Oh my god, _tell me_!”

“They know about us.”

Ginny’s stomach drops.  She freezes. “ _What_?” It’s a tight whisper of a question. She slowly stands up.

“Gin, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t expecting to hear about my contract for weeks and they wanted an answer quickly—

Holding up a hand to silence him, Ginny tries to see reason through her anger. “I don’t understand.” Her words are cold.

Mike moves to stand before her. He takes her clammy hands in his. He waits until she meets his eyes. “They wanted me to sign before they present the team contract options. They think that’ll help lock in a few key players for them. But I can’t sign anything yet. Not until I know you’re one of those players.”

Ginny is reeling. Mike holds her hands tightly, which is helping her to not punch him in the face. She blinks at him. Her mouth is bitterly dry. “So you gave them an ultimatum.”

“No,” Mike says carefully. “I did not. I said negotiations still need to go through my agent, that I want to stay, but I have several other things to consider.”

“Like whether or not your girlfriend will be traded?” Ginny can’t believe this. Fucking Mike and his fucking big mouth.

“No, _no_ , I did not say that,” Mike pulls away from her and starts pacing the room. After a moment, he stops and looks at her straight on. “See, the thing is, Oscar brought it up.”

Ginny just stares.

Mike tries to explain. “As it turns out, I didn’t have to tell them because they already knew.”

The realization lights a spark in her. Suddenly, she's all energy and motion. “What?!”

“Well, suspected, I guess is the better word,” Mike rushes to say, trying to track her sudden pacing, “but Oscar brought it up, asking if that was my hesitation, and I couldn’t exactly lie…”

“Of course you could’ve lied!” Ginny throws up her hands then winds them in her hair. Her mind begins to play out all the ways this could mess up her career and her life trajectory....or her relationship with Mike. 

Intercepting Ginny on one of her loops, Mike grabs her by the shoulders and urges her to meet his gaze. “I didn’t give them an ultimatum, Gin. But I did say it would be a factor in my decision to stay or go.”

Ginny doesn’t quite see the difference. She swallows hard. Avoids his gaze. “So if and when they do offer me a contract, I’ll have to wonder if it’s only because we’re a package deal?”

Mike shakes his head at her. “C’mon, Baker, your contract is worth way more than mine for a million different reasons. Literally.”

Rubbing at her forehead, Ginny struggles to wrap her brain around that. He’s not wrong. But that doesn't mean he's right either. “ _Fine,"_ she concedes tightly. "Play this out for me, then.”

“If they force me to sign before you know and you get traded, I’m out. I’ll buy out my own contract if I have to. Where you go, I go.” He lays it out there like he's thought it through hundreds of times before. 

Though she doesn’t deny the intensity of his conviction, it still leaves Ginny with more questions. Because they’ve never talked about this option before. It’s always been how _she’d_ handle the trade, where _she_ might play, how that would affect _her_ career. In her head, Ginny has just assumed that Mike would stay on with the Padres if he wanted. Certainly, she never thought of him leaving San Diego.

Mike must see it in her face, her confusion, so he runs his hand down her shoulders before taking her hands in his again. “We _are_ a package deal now, Baker. But, make no mistake, it's your career that matters now.”

Fighting the lump in her throat, Ginny still tries to comprehend. “You’d leave the team for me? You wouldn’t even have to do that!"

“Look, Gin, I love this team. I do. I love coaching. But I also love you and our life together." Mike rubs his thumbs across her knuckles. He won't let her look away from him, just radiates all his passion right at her. And Ginny could never resist the magnetism of a Lawson speech, let alone one all for her. She can't do anything but surrender. "Look, I've done the long distance relationship before. I've sacrificed a marriage to my career. I know what we have is different. I know we can make it work. But I don't want to do it like that again. I can find something to do with baseball anywhere we go, or maybe I’ll just show up to all your games and cheer you on... if you'll let me, that is. And then we come back here in the off-season and hang out at the beach and ride mountain bikes.”

Sniffling now, Ginny chokes out, “I’ll never ride a mountain bike.”

Mike chuckles and touches a hand to her cheek. “Besides, coaching will always be there. Maybe I could even do the whole Coach Taylor thing. Find a high school team and lead a rag tag group to state finals. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.”

Wiping her eyes, Ginny laughs through her tears and throws herself at Mike, hugging him tightly. “We haven't even finished that show yet, old man.”

"We will," Mike whispers, rubbing her back. 

They sway together, just holding one another a long moment. Ginny takes comfort in his solid presence as she tries to process what just happened. All she can come up with is that someone, the someone she cares about most in this world, put her before baseball. And Mike Lawson loves baseball more than anything. It takes her breath away.

“We’re a team, Baker,” Mike mutters into her skin. “Just us. Forget the rest of these mooks.”

“I love you.” It sounds so trite, so not enough. But it's the only truth she has right now. 

“I know,” Mike says.

Ginny pulls away abruptly and jams her elbow into his side. Jerk.

Shaking her head, Ginny goes to her mirror and tries to address the surely red and swollen eyes she now has. “Hey, how do you think Oscar knew about us anyway?”

Mike laughs and scratches his head. “I dunno, rook, but it’s probably not all the time I spend in your cubby with the door closed.”

 “Touché.”

 

* * *

 

_my missing puzzle piece_

When free agency begins, Ginny’s relieved to find the Padres still want her on the roster. Mike is quick to point out that very few blogs even considered that the team wouldn’t try to compete with the other generous offers on the table. In the end, though, Ginny wants to stay. She’s worked too hard and built up too much of a life in San Diego to be pulled away by some extra cash.

“Rookie! Let’s celebrate!”

Ginny just waves the glass of champagne she’s been nursing ever since Amelia and the rest of her management team had dropped by with her offers. There was never really a question of leaving and so the conversation went quickly.

“Padres forever!” Mike raises his own glass and ignores her eye roll at his remark.

“You really need to stop with that show,” she laughs, toasting with him regardless. “And it’s not forever. It’s three years.”

“Still. We’re staying!” he says, pulling Ginny into him. Ginny allows herself a happy breath. She turns in his arms to kiss him properly, tasting the sweet champagne on his lips.

When they pull apart, Mike fixes her with a heavy look. “So, now that it’s official… You’re staying, so I’m staying… and really, most of the team knows about us anyway, if they have any sense at all, that is…”

Ginny leans into the joy of the moment rather than the panic that licks at her heels. “I’m not sure if they know. Jemison asked me to be his date to some movie premiere last week.”

Mike narrows his eyes. “What.”

Laughing, Ginny gives Mike’s beard a tug. “Can you believe it? Even after Livan threw a water bottle at his head for staring at my ass during BP.”

“He did _what now_ ,” Mike’s voice is low and dangerous and it definitely, definitely turns Ginny on. She’s not even sure if he’s mad about Jemison’s behavior or Livan being the one to defend her.

“Jealous, Lawson?” Ginny purrs and runs her hands down over his ass.

Mike tries hard not to fall into the trap. “I can’t have my team being a bunch of disrespectful hooligans.”

“Uh huh,” Ginny agrees, sort of, but finds herself more interested in unbuckling Mike’s jeans. “I agree. Care to show a girl how not jealous you are?”

Seeming to shake himself out of his mood, Mike realizes what’s happening. He bats her hand away from his belt and redirects it to her champagne flute. “What I was going to say, before you so rudely got me off track, is that isn’t it time that we tell the world about us? It’s been over a year…”

Ginny smiles. “One year and three weeks.”

“Who’s counting?” He grins back. But then fixes her with an impatient look.

With a sigh, Ginny considers the man before her. She’s just as in love with him now as she was that morning they first kissed, just as smitten with his stupid smile and swagger as she was with that hotshot rookie who hung up on her wall. And she is confident that he loves her, too. He shows her every day, never lets her doubt his feelings.

Why is she still so afraid to tell the world?

“I don’t want to push you into this, Gin,” Mike says after her silence stretches into minutes. “Whenever you’re ready, okay?”

Ginny nods and hugs him close. “Sometimes I don’t believe this is all real,” she murmurs into his chest. She’s not quite sure he hears the words but, really, they are more for herself anyway.

* * *

 

 

_now every february, you’ll be my valentine_

They decide to celebrate Valentine’s Day the weekend before Spring Training starts. It’s only their second official celebration of the holiday and since they still aren’t officially “out” to the world, their options are limited.

To be fair, they haven’t exactly hidden their relationship as of late. Sure, Ginny still feels more comfortable attending any publicity events solo and they’ve been careful to put a clear embargo on any social media mentions of their relationship with their close friends and family. In the off-season, it’s easier. Team events are rare and no one thinks twice if they show up to represent the Padres at whichever charity gala they're invited to. Lacking anything else to do, Mike trails Ginny to LA often for various photoshoots and commercials. Amelia follows them around with NDAs and, really, most of Hollywood doesn’t care much about the sports world. The new season will bring changes, though. New teammates, new staff, new management— the dynamic is sure to be different but Mike and Ginny have every intention of being open and honest about their status (to a point, and then it is truly “none of their fucking business” as Mike so eloquently puts it.)

But Ginny still feels some trepidation leading up to Spring Training. More the fear of change than anything else. And Mike can sense it, she knows, no matter how much she assures him she’s ready for this next step. So celebrating Valentine’s Day seems secondary and, frankly, she wants nothing more than a typical night at home (because Mike’s home has become more _their_ home lately), to revel in their happy bubble just one more night.

They order take-out and drink wine by the outdoor fireplace, wrapped in blankets and each other, until Ginny starts yawning and Mike tells her to head up to bed.

“You want your present don’t you, Baker?” He waggles his eyes at her and Ginny chuckles. They’d said no big gifts but Ginny is sure Mike couldn’t resist. It’s only fair. Ginny  bought a silk and lace nightgown that was gorgeous and far, far too expensive as her gift to him.

*

After a quick change and some primping, Ginny lights a few candles in their bedroom and turns off the lights. The floor to ceiling windows offer, as ever, an incredible view of the setting sun and the promise of a clear, moonlit night. Ginny sits on the bed and waits for Mike, sitting less patiently and far less seductively as the minutes tick by. Finally, she hears his feet clomping up the stairs. But before she can really see him, he grabs the bedroom door and slams it shut. Ginny's jaw drops. 

“Close your eyes!” He cracks the door open and yells inside.

Thoroughly confused, Ginny just shakes her head and complies.

“No peeking, Baker!” He yells again. “This is a one-time only surprise. You’d better appreciate it!”

“O- _kay_!” She yells back and now she’s really curious. She has to squeeze her eyes even tighter when she hears the door open and the room’s sound system cue up.

She recognizes the song right away. Laughter bubbles up in her. He wouldn't. He wouldn't!

Ginny starts to giggle. "Lawson..."

“I said no peeking!” Mike sounds a little panicked now.

“I’m not!” But she's getting damn impatient.

Ginny hears another door open. Mike’s closet, she assumes, and then he tells her to open her eyes. 

She turns her head to where she last heard him and--

_Oh my god._

The song’s chorus kicks in. Ginny’s eyes go wide. She can’t help the smile that bursts across her face. Her hand goes to her mouth.

“ _Miiiiike_ …”

There he is, in all his glory: her poster boy.

He’s standing in front of his closet door where the exact same poster from her childhood bedroom hangs. And standing right in front of it, mimicking the same confident pose, is her Mike Lawson, aged a few decades, but just as handsome and still completely owning Ginny’s heart.

The bubble of laughter in chest bursts but comes out as a sob instead; tears stream down Ginny's cheeks. 

“Aw, Baker, it’s not that bad.” Mike immediately checks his uniform for fit. “I know I’ve put on some bulk since then. But I thought you liked the beard...?”

And then the storm passes and Ginny is smiling so hard her cheeks ache.

Katy Perry’s "Teenage Dream” is playing and Mike has done the dorkiest, most ridiculous thing ever to make her smile. Or maybe turn her on? Okay, well that’s definitely happening, too, but probably not for the reasons he thinks.

“Oh my god, Lawson,” Ginny manages between waves of tears and laughter, “I love it. I love you... I can’t believe this… _Please_ let me take a picture!”

That snaps Mike out of his self conscious funk. He resumes posing, always the narcissist, and Ginny reaches for her phone, catching a few choice snaps before Mike starts getting a little too Magic Mike on her and she has to drop the phone lest she accidentally text photos to Blip and Evelyn. That will definitely happen later.

Mike pulls her up out of bed and urges her to dance with him. Tossing her head back, Ginny laughs out loud at his awkward moves. She knows first hand that Lawson can work a rhythm. It just does not seem to be the case with Katy Perry. So they settle for silly instead. Ginny loops her arms around Mike's neck and they sway and twirl together, laughing and having fun. Ginny gets an up close and personal comparison of Captain Lawson versus Rookie Lawson and it’s without hesitation that Ginny can say she prefers the one in her arms. This Mike is lit up from the inside with happiness. His throaty chuckles in her ear as he spins her around are everything. This Mike is hers and hers alone. 

“You are such a dork,” Ginny laughs into his shoulder as they crash together. Katy Perry has given way to John Legend so Ginny can only assume this was a carefully curated playlist. “But this was so thoughtful and sweet and I can’t believe you did this.”

“Yeah, well, had to make sure you got your poster boy for Valentine’s Day,” Mike says, smirking.

“I’m lucky to have him every day.” Ginny kisses him soundly on the lips. “And we should probably break up now because there is no way you will ever top this.”

Chuckling into her mouth, Mike barely pulls away again before assuring her, “I’m willing to keep trying, no matter how embarrassing.”

Ginny scratches lightly at his beard, moving her head so he has to chase her lips. “You didn’t look embarrassed shaking those hips to Katy Perry.”

 "Oh, it wasn’t embarrassing for _me_ , Baker,” Mike smirks, kissing her neck. Ginny sighs happily and wanders her hands over the familiar uniform. Mike catches a scrap of silk in his teeth before pulling back slightly. “Now let me take a closer look at _my_ present.”

"Hmm," Ginny considers this. She adjusts her posture so a single strap falls off her shoulder. Mike leers at her. Ginny pulls away and saunters back over to the bed. Reaching into the nightstand, she finds a remote for the speaker system before arranging herself in her most seductive pose. "I don't think I'm quite done with mine yet, Captain."

*

The next morning, as Mike is loading up their bags into his car for the road trip to Arizona, Ginny takes a moment to herself. She thinks back over the night before, the nearly three years before really, and comes to a decision. Trying not to overthink it, she pours herself another cup of coffee and goes back to her phone. A few taps and that’s it. The whole world can know. Like Evelyn said: screw it.

She sends Amelia a courtesy text, though they’d been planning for this for awhile.

It doesn’t take long for Mike to catch on and he’s blazing back into the house.

“Baker! You chose _now_?”

Ginny just shrugs and smiles into her coffee mug. “What can I say? The throwback uniform really got to me.”

With a wide, happy smile that Ginny knows is just for her, Mike tosses his keys down on the table and pulls her into a giant hug. “Love you, Gin.”

Ginny kisses him on the rosy apple of his cheek. “Love you, back.”

*

The picture she chooses to post is one of her favorites. Evelyn gets the photo credit for the snap she’d taken as they all walked the beach after dinner one night: It’s Ginny and Mike, walking side by side. Ginny leans into Mike, her head on his shoulder and her curls blowing in the breeze. Mike has his arm wrapped around her waist, hand tucked into the back pocket of her jeans, as he looks at her in amazement. She captions the image: _like i’m livin’ a teenage dream._ Mike comments with a cheeky “Just trying to steal your wallet, Baker.”

So she’s sure fallout is imminent. But like every other obstacle they’ve encountered, they will deal with it together. In a few hours, she will be back at her dream job with her dream man and it is all very, very real. And for the first time, she’s finally starting to believe it.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
